


A life for a life

by JAinsel



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bipolar Disorder, Blood and Injury, Body Sharing, Break Up, Coma, Coming Out, Eventual Happy Ending, Feelings, M/M, Masturbation, Overdosing, Peggy Gallagher is a grim reaper/angel, Racial slurs, Smut, Souls, Suicide Attempt, Supernatural Elements, Terry's a bastard as usual, these boys really love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22665916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAinsel/pseuds/JAinsel
Summary: What if the only way to save your ex boyfriend's life is to give up your own?After their break-up, Mickey wants nothing to do with Ian. And yet, when he finds him overdosed behind a dumpster, Mickey doesn't esitate to commit the final sacrifice.Or at least, that's what he thinks.**This is an AU. It's not a post Canon break-up fic
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 72
Kudos: 166





	1. I'm fucked for life, anyway

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I decided to write another fic, sue me.

He was cruising for sex. Anonymous, no strings attached sex.

He wasn't looking for a specific someone. Certainly not for a particular tall redhead whom he couldn't get out of his mind. 

_ Mickey, we can't go on like this… _

His feet were sinking into the snow, it was freezing out there. Winters in Chicago were fucking brutal and really, there were only two reasons for someone like him to be outside and risk an hibernation: money or sex. Sometimes those two things would go hand in hand. This time the latter was what he needed. Fuck someone. Well, getting fucked by someone was more like it. Hell, he was good even with just a fucking blowjob. Anything not to think about mesmerizing green eyes, capable of making his knees weak. 

_ I mean, what is the point? I need more, I need… _

Almost there. The music coming from the club was getting louder and louder the closer he got and his hands - he had forgotten to bring his gloves, nice job, Mickey - were aching for the warmth inside the building. Soon he would've been surrounded by hot bodies and sweat and the unmistakable smell of sex.

A couple of guys exited the club. They were laughing and groping each other, they were so into it that they were doing a very poor job trying to put on their coats. They didn't even notice the brunet on their way to their Uber. 

Mickey felt a pang of jealousy. Not so long ago he would've been found in the same situation as those two guys. Laughing and groping. And kissing while telling the other exactly what they were going to do to them as soon as they were alone. Mickey hoped for the couple in the car that they had some safe place to go and not be forced for a quickie in an abandoned building before going back to their homophobic prick of a father.

_ You can't even look me in the eyes when your father is in the room! _

Mickey diverted his eyes from the horny teenagers. He bit his lip, trying to stop himself from doing something he would've probably regretted.

Then he caved in.

He took his cell out and soon he was calling someone he promised himself not to call ever again.

One ring. Nothing. Nobody was going to answer on the other side. The brunet was sure of it. 

Maybe he should've closed the call before it reached the voicemail. Before leaving a message he would for sure regret. He wasn't going to chase after him like some bitch, he had told him so when his - no, not his, not anymore - redhead left for the last time. 

_ Yes, Mickey. I'm breaking up with you. _

When he had broken up with him, Mickey had reacted like he would usually do. He had cursed and shouted and just when he should've said something, anything, he had only been able to mumble some words.

_ Don't… what? _

Don't leave me. Don't break up with me. I'll do better but just- fuck, just stay here. With me.

Those were the words he would have wanted to say. They probably wouldn't have been enough, but he hadn't even tried. He had just stood there, watching his lover's back disappear from his sight.

Oh, fuck that shit. His ex had moved on? Mickey had moved on too. Or at least he had all the intentions to.

Not like they had been together for that long. 

Actually, not that they had been together  _ together _ . Boyfriends. They had been fucking for two years, but Mickey had spent more time first in juvie then in prison, than outside. So, really, did their relationship even count as one?

Mickey sighed. He knew the answer all too well.

He moved his finger to slide the X button when something caught his attention. 

A phone ringing. 

Not too far from where he was standing.

Following his instinct, he closed the call. The ringing stopped. He called again. The ringing started once more. 

Mickey ran towards the source of the sound. It was difficult to jog in the snow, but the cold feeling that shot thought his body had nothing to do with the freezing January temperature. He could sense something was wrong. So fucking wrong.

He arrived in front of a dumpster in the dark alley that so many customers of the gay club would use to fuck or blow.

Was Ian with someone? He couldn't see Ian on his knees sucking someone off.

_ Yeah! Yeah, I have been cheating on you! You're never here and when you are you're too much of a pussy to be seen with me! _

Mickey was about to turn his back and go inside the club, when he noticed a foot.

Just behind the dumpster, he recognized a grey snicker that he had seen Ian wear so many times. 

The brunet gingerly stepped closer, his eyes taking in a sight he would've never wished to see even during the times he had been the most angry with his ex. There he was, his redhead, laying on the dirty ground, covered in nothing else but a loose green top and snow. His jeans were unzipped and his eyes closed. He was incredibly pale, his lips of a blueish color he was almost beautiful, even if disheveled and dirty. He looked peacefully asleep. But there was puke at the side of his mouth and that particular brought Mickey to crouch down on his knees.

"The fuck, Ian!”

He scooped his head in his arms, letting it rest on his chest. Ian didn't seem to be breathing.

"Fuck fuck- what happened," Mickey muttered under his breath. The redhead was completely unresponsive and he knew there was really only one thing he could do. 

He fished out his phone and dialed 911. Soon a calm voice answered.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Uh, oh-" Mickey had never called that number. Never. People had called that number on him several times, but he had never done that. Not when he would lay on the floor after he had been brutally beaten up by his dad, not when he had assisted to the scene of his father blowing up a butcher shop as a threat to the owner. But now, with Ian in his arms, cold and unmoving, Mickey had to speak up and ask for help. "Yes. I'm at a club called the White Swallow in Boystown. He's unconscious… Ian. Ian Gallagher. He's unresponsive, he puked. I don't know what kind of shit he took…”

Dancing all night, fucking all kind of guys for money or for free, taking drugs without even knowing what they were for. Ian had become so reckless in the last few months. He had probably fucked someone in the alley on too many pills and then when shit had happened his partner had fucked off.

"An ambulance will be there in eight minutes. Your name, sir?”

Mickey disconnected the call.

"Help's on the way, you hear me?"

He whispered to Ian, placing a soft kiss on his right temple. 

He must have been so focused on the redhead that he didn't notice someone approaching. Because when he heard a hoarse voice coming from an inch behind his ear, he was caught completely unprepared.

"Oh, c'mon Ian! I had so much hope for you, you little shit!”

Mickey gasped and he would've fallen on the ground if he hadn't been sitting on his ass already. 

"What the fuck!"

He turned his head to see an old lady looking at him with a stupefied expression on her face.

"You can see me?” she asked with a tone that indicated he was not supposed to. 

Man, he didn't need to concern himself with weirdos. Even if they seemed to know Ian.

"Yes?” Mickey protectively tightened up his hold on the redhead. The ambulance couldn't have come soon enough. "Can you, like, fuck off or…"

The woman seemed to think about his words for a second before she snapped her fingers in realization and, well, disappeared.

"Jesus Christ!”

For the second time in a very short period of time, Mickey had to thank the fact he was already on the floor. What the fuck had just happened?

"Oh, finally! Why's it so damn hard!” 

The old lady's voice without the actual lady exclaimed.

"Okay, what the fuck is it happening?” Mickey asked in panic. This was some kind of supernatural shit.

"Son of a bitch! Can you still hear me?” the voice sounded utterly disappointed.

"What kind of fucking question is that! Fuck off for good!”

Instead of doing just that, the woman appeared once again.

"Whatever. I'm new at this." She shrugged. As if it wasn't that big of a deal. Then she looked at Mickey with a menacing stare. "I can smell Southside from a mile away. You're not gonna snitch are you."

Mickey shook his head. He wasn't going to do that. His only worry at the moment was to shied Ian from that… that thing.

And the thing noticed, because she arched one eyebrow and scoffed. 

"Look, tough guy. I'm not some kind of monster ready to eat your beloved. I'm Peggy Gallagher." She said, matter of factly.

Wait a second. Mickey realized something.

"Peggy Gallagher… as in Grammy?”

She nodded.

"As in…  _ dead _ Grammy?”

She nodded again. "Yep! And now kick-ass angel. Well, if only I could master the art of being fucking invisible. Now. If you'll excuse me. I have to assess the situation here with my grandkid."

Peggy motioned to get closer, but Mickey moved Ian out of her reach on an instinct. 

She rolled her eyes and with a fluidity of movement Mickey hadn't expected from a dead grandma, she grabbed Ian and shoved the brunet against his shoulder, making him fly against the nearby wall with a choked sound. Peggy squatted in front of her nephew and touched his chest, which lightened up underneath her hand.

"Leave him alone!” Mickey growled. He didn't fully understand what was going on. He only knew there was a dead woman touching an unconscious Ian and everything screamed danger. He got up and tried to take a swing at Peggy, who easily caught his fist with her free hand.

"I'm not here to hurt him. I'm just checking if I need to reap his soul," she explained. The light became brighter.

"No…" Mickey muttered. She couldn't reap Ian's soul. Ian couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.

There was still so much to say to him. There was still so much to do. Ian's death wasn't in his plans. The most important person in his life couldn't just disappear forever. He wasn't going to allow it.

_ You don't love me, Mickey. _

"Just- just wait a fucking second!" Mickey shouted, managing to wriggle his hand out of Peggy's grasp. "You can't just take his life!”

Peggy chuckled.

"Oh. I can't? That's what I do. I'm a glorified grim reaper. When someone from my family dies, I come and take their soul."

"Not Ian's!” Mickey didn't even notice that he was crying. Frankly, he didn't care. He looked down at his redhead, motionless and so beautiful. He wasn't ready to let him go. He bet he would never be ready for that. "Please. Please don't take him. I'll do anything you want. Just don't."

Peggy looked at him. "Anything?”

Mickey barely noticed her smile. It was a dark, malicious looking smile.

"Anything." He nodded.

"Even your life?" Understanding the confusion in Mickey's eyes, she explained. "Would you give your life in exchange for Ian's?”

Mickey didn't even have to think about it. He softly caressed Ian's red hair. His cheeks. "Of course."

Peggy seemed surprised. "Are you for real?”

Mickey nodded. What love did he have for his own life? He was a closeted Southside thug who would have never amounted to anything in his life. His future without Ian was bleak. Either prison or married to a woman with kids. Probably both. And he was destined to die young in any case. Why wouldn't he exchange his life for someone who was good and deserving like Ian? It didn't matter he wasn't going to be there to see Ian flourish, to grow old and accomplish something. He shrugged. "I'm fucked for life, anyway."

There was an unreadable expression on Peggy's face, but if Mickey had to guess, Peggy was pissed. 

After a moment, though, she detached herself from Ian and raised her hands in exasperation.

"Fucking fine! Let's save Ian's life!”

Peggy turned towards Mickey and with a quick movement of her right index finger, she touched him between his eyebrows.

The only thing Mickey registered before losing his senses, was the sound of an ambulance approaching. 

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Tiny hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian wakes up in a body that is not his. He has no idea how it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added other tags

Ian woke up feeling a sharp pain at the right side of his head. 

He groaned, massaging the sore spot still with his eyes closed. He felt a bump. Fuck, he must've hit his head the night before. Not that he could remember, his mind was still too hazy from sleep. Also probably from alcohol and drugs.

He was pondering whether to open his eyes or keep them closed and try to catch a little more sleep, lulled by a familiar and awesome smell, when the bedroom door slammed open.

His eyes widened for the surprise and he was about to tell Carl or Liam to tone it down, when he caught the glimpse of a white haired man before he entered a room that was not supposed to be there.

Soon he heard the unmistakable sound of pee dripping against a toilet bowl followed by a loud fart.

It didn't take long to understand he wasn't in his room and to recognize whose bed he was actually in. Mickey's.

He was in Mickey's house, and the man doing the deeds in the adjacent bathroom was none other than his prick of a father, Terry.

Instead of being scared shitless of having a well known dangerous homophobe in the next room, Ian felt a warm, fluttery feeling at the bottom of his stomach and and the hint of a smile creeped on his lips.

He had broken up with the brunet, true, but he just couldn't help it. Just the mere thought he had held Mickey in his arms the night before made him happy. His only regret was that he didn't remember. He would've made his ex tell him every nasty detail after.

Wondering where Mickey had fucked off, Ian stretched in bed. He closed his hands into fists to make the knuckles crack, when he noticed something wrong.

His hands were tiny.

His hands had never been tiny. Like, they had been big even before his growth spurt.

His hands were also tattooed. They spelled FUCK U-UP.

Those were not his fucking hands.

Ian sat upright on the bed and stretched again those alien and yet familiar fingers in front of him.

Small, tiny hands. Dirt under the fingernails, knuckle tattoos.

Ian had kissed each finger on those hands. He had found them endearing, but at that moment he was looking at them in horror.

"Are you tripping that hard? I told you, never try the shit we sell!"

Ian barely registered what Terry was telling him. His focus was on his hands. He barely nodded.

The older man didn't seem to care about his reply, he zipped up his jeans.

"And come to the kitchen, Mandy's making eggs."

Terry left the room, unaware of the turmoil that was going on in Ian's head.

Terry had just talked to him as if he was Mickey.

Those hands were Mickey's hands.

His heart was hammering in the chest like crazy. It was like he knew what was going on and yet it was so impossible Ian had to believe he had to be still on acid.

He got out of the bed and slowly but inevitably walked to the bathroom.

Right in front of the mirror.

Deep down he knew what was going to happen, but when the mirror greeted him with Mickey Milkovich's face, he couldn't stop himself from screaming.

*0*0*

Mickey's dad had just shouted at him to shut the fuck up or he would make him.

It was Mickey's the face reflected on the mirror.

Those were Mickey's hands.

It was… yep. It was definitely Mickey's dick.

The redhead - no fuck, he was a brunet now - was staring down into his boxers and for the first time in his life the dick that he had sucked off so many times looked terrifying. 

Was he still tripping? But it felt so fucking real!

He pinched his side.

"Ouch!"

Mickey's voice. While screaming he hadn't even noticed, but that slightly nasal voice was not his own. He decided to try to speak again.

"Check check. One two-"

Ian gasped.

Fuck fuck… Fuck!

Ian went to sit on the bed again, he wasn't trusting his - Mickey's, dammit!- legs not to fall.

He sighed.

What was happening?

Why was he in Mickey's body?

It wasn't an hallucination. It was real and scary and he had to get the fuck out of that room. But where was he supposed to go? To the Gallagher's? He was Mickey, for fuck's sake.

Ian tried to think.

Was this some kind of cosmic retribution for leaving Mickey?

But he hadn't been wrong to do that. He had been tired of being a secret. 

It was true that he had cheated on him, however.

He had not been the best boyfriend, but then again, Mickey had always reiterated that he and Ian were not together. Ian had his doubts that his ex hadn't fucked a few inmates while locked up. And he had his share of lovers. When Mickey was incarcerated, but also when he was not.

At first, he had cheated on Mickey to make him jealous. Then to make him understand what he was losing with his closeted life. Lately though, he had cheated on Mickey just because he had felt like it. Because he was horny all the time, he was high and Mickey wasn't always so much fun. After their break-up, Ian had just kept on going. Sex, drugs and rock and roll. Without the rock-and-roll. Club music. He remembered he was getting tired of that too. The last few days he had been feeling like shit.

Deep down he knew what was going on. His family had been telling him for weeks. He just didn't want to give it a name.

Bipolar disorder.

Fuck that.

Sometimes when he had been in Mickey's company, Ian had felt as if his ex had trouble recognizing him. It had made Ian mad.

When Mickey had accused him of fucking around, Ian had seen red and had lashed out. 

Fuck. He needed a cigarette. 

Ian took one from the nightstand and lit it up. He inhaled it and breathed out the smoke from his nostrils. It was weird that his brain actually relaxed while he smoked. His own brain had been a whirlwind of emotions for such a long time that that calm was soothing, even if he was still shocked by the morning events. 

Mickey's brain also told him to get the fuck up and drink a beer. Also, Mandy's eggs were good.

Ian's almost smiled at his cravings. Mickey was a complicated man but he liked simple things. Cigarettes, beer and taking it from behind. 

He got up and opened Mickey's wardrobe. It was empty. Ian shook his head in amusement and resigned himself to pick up a sleeveless shirt and jeans from the floor. The usual.

He had to will himself to get out of the room and go to the kitchen.

It was a completely different scene from the one at the Gallagher's. The loudness was the same, but the atmosphere changed. Mickey's family was eating with guns and rifles on the table. Terry was slapping his nephew Iggy on the neck and telling him next time he tried to steal the bacon he was going to stick a fork in his eye (and he meant it). Mandy wasn't sitting down, but she was still next to the stove, cooking another load of scrambled eggs. Nobody was minding her with the exception of yelling at her to cook faster. She wouldn't answer, focused on completing her duty.

"Oh! Fucking finally, asshat. Shit wore off?" 

Terry took notice of him. Ian\Mickey could only nod. 

"Mh. Yeah. Never again," he muttered, trying to get used to his new voice.

He approached Mandy, who only gave him a small, forced smile. 

"Hey, fuckface. Eggs are almost ready," she softly said, trying to divert his attention to the food instead of her face. But Ian knew her better than that. He looked at her and felt a jolt of pain in his chest when he noticed her eyes. She had been crying: her cheeks were still wet and her eyes were red. 

"Mands… are you okay?” he asked. He caressed her cheek with concern and Mandy's eyes widened with stupor. 

Ian had to curse himself. At that moment he was not Ian, the best friend whom she could confide in. To her eyes he was Mickey, the brother who loved her so much but couldn't for the life of him tell her so. They would kill for one another but they couldn't talk except for calling each other names. Ian had always thought they had kind of established an unspoken dictionary with which they would always know how the other was feeling and they would never act or say anything about it. He also believed it was incredibly fucked up.

"Yeah…" Mandy said. Then she punched in the chest. "Of course I am! Now take your fucking plate and fuck off." 

Ian took the plate and tried to find a small place at the table free of firearms.

"Fucking Patel is still not paying up," Jaime said. Iggy nodded.

"Yeah, Dimitri too. Pops, everytime you go to the can they think they can relax."

Terry slapped both of them at the same time. "And do you know why? Because you're all a bunch of pussies!" He growled.

The young men could only cower and nod. Ian managed to make himself as invisible as possible.

Once they finished breakfast, everyone but Ian\Mickey followed their father outside. Ian stayed behind with Mandy.

He had heard her sigh and sniff for all the duration of breakfast and, Milkoviches sibling's dynamic be damned, he was going to discover what had her sobbing. 

Mandy went to her bedroom and he followed suit.

He didn't bother knocking.

"Hey-"

He had to duck a spiked leather booth.

"Get the fuck out, Mickey!” she shouted. 

"I'm not-" No. Wait. He was Mickey. And this time the thug would have had to step in for his little sister. "I'm not going away," he said instead, closing the door behind him.

Mandy's cheeks were striked with tears. Everything in her stance screamed to go away, but he had no intention of backing off. Ian sat down on her bed and she turned her head away in order to avoid looking at him.

"Just tell me what happened," Ian said, with the most soothing thone Mickey could muster.

"Do you really wanna know?” she sniffed, still not looking at him.

"Yes, of course I wanna know." Ian moved his hand to reach her, but he stopped. Maybe that would've been too much for Mickey. 

Mandy sighed, then rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and turned around, facing her brother. "Okay."

Ian waited for her to talk.

"It's- it's… It's Ian!" And she started sobbing again. "It's bad."

Ian didn't know how to take it. What to do. What about him? Yes, something bad happened to him, he was in another person's body! But she clearly didn't know, so what - "What happened to Ian?” he asked, feeling as if he was talking about himself in third person.

"I knew something bad was going to happen, I knew it!” she cried. "I tried to call him several times yesterday and he never replied. He wasn't doing very well these days and I was worried. Then I received a call from him early this morning. Only it was not Ian but Lip. He told me… oh, Mick. He told me he ODd yesterday night and now he's not- he's not waking up."

*O*O*

On the way to the hospital, Ian and Mandy were trying their luck by not having an accident. Ian was driving like a mad man and Mandy was thinking they were going to die soon. She was probably regretting having asked her brother to accompany her to visit her best friend.

Ian's mind was racing like his car. Had he ODd? He was in a coma?

He was starting to remember something about the previous night. Flashes of himself drinking and crying. He had not been at his best. He had felt sad and irritated. He remembered going to the alley behind the club to be alone when a man had tried to have his way with him. He had lashed out and had punched him in the face. He was sure the man has run away.

And then what had happened? Why was his mind, soul, or whatever it was in Mickey's body?

They parked near the hospital and he heard Mandy retching a bit. 

"I'm driving back," she said, stealing the keys from the car.

They went inside the hospital, where a nurse pointed them towards the ICU. Mandy revealed herself to be the strongest one of the two and she led him to the right room.

Ian should've had expected it, but the sight of his family outside the door left him dumbfounded.

What was he supposed to say? To do? 

There were Debbie and Carl and none of them knew what Mickey was to him, so Debbie greeted only Mandy with a hug that lasted a few moments, both women trying to comfort each other.

Carl nodded at him. Ian had always found Carl's adoration for Mickey kind of adorable. Only that time, his little brother's expression was too sad to smile at the thug.

"Hey Carl. Debbie," Ian said, trying with all his might not to crack.

"Hey Mickey," Debbie acknowledged him. She didn't really know him, so she gave her attention back to Mandy. "Lip had just left to go pick Liam up at Kev and Vee's, but Fiona's inside. You can go in."

Mandy nodded. "Thank you".

Unexpectedly, Mandy grabbed his hand and they went inside.

And Ian saw Ian.

Well, his body.

Weird wouldn't be enough to explain what he felt seeing himself lying on the hospital bed. It was as if that wasn't his body but a doll's. A strange thing that had nothing to do with him. And yet they were all crying for the sleeping Ian, not knowing the real one was well awake and amongst them, albeit in a different form.

He was so focused on his body that he almost didn't take notice of Fiona, who was trying to comfort Mandy and instead ended up crying with her.

"The doctors are optimistic but if he doesn't wake up in the next twelve hours, I don't know… he might never wake up again," Fiona muttered. Those words barely registered in Ian's mind. "There were so many drugs in his bloodstream, especially oxy. He took so much of it."

Oxy. Ian remembered it. Oxy was easy to get.

The previous night he had been feeling so down. He had just wanted everything to stop. After the attack, behind the dumpster he-

Ian couldn't take it anymore. He turned on his heels and he got out of the room and started running.

"Mick!”

He heard Mandy shout, but he didn't stop until he reached a dead end. 

"Fuck!” he shouted. He leaned against a wall and simply let himself sink on the floor.

Mandy closed their distance and crouched down in front of him. She smiled softly at him.

"It's you, isn't it?” she asked. Before Ian could say something, she added "You are Ian's mysterious ex boyfriend."

Ian looked at her with widened eyes. She took his silence for a confession.

"I had my suspicions, especially lately. Ian told me that he had to break up with his man because he wanted to stay in the closet and at the same time 1I'd see you all mopey and gumpy." She shrugged. "I only wished you would've told me, but then again, we  _ are _ Milkoviches."

Ian decided to go for a half truth. "I wanted to tell you. So many times," he said.

Mandy nodded, accepting his words.

She enveloped him in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He was sorry too. 

Because he had just remembered the reason why he had overdosed. It hadn't been an accident. He had done it on purpose. 

Ian had tried to commit suicide.


	3. Where is Mickey?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title really says it a

Nothing. 

The internet wasn't helpful in his quest of finding answers to his fucked up situation. Ian had never thought he would've ever arrived to the point of hating the Holy Google but he did.

A bunch of crap, that was what he had found. 

Plus, the fact that Mickey was dyslexic kinda worked against him. Ian had always suspected that Mickey had trouble reading. He had always avoided talking about books or studying, actually lashing out at Ian whenever he had tried to suggest reading a fucking book once in a while, and after he had witnessed the guy trying to read a magazine and then shooting it nine times in frustration, he had thought his boyfriend's problem might've been a little more serious than simple laziness. Now, searching on the web Ian had had the confirmation that Mickey had dyslexia, because he had not been able to read anything, had misinterpreted many sentences and he was sure he had typed the words on the search engine incorrectly.

In the end, Ian had to resort to watching a load of videos and pictures and he was even more confused than before.

It seemed that the only possible explanations for his waking up in his ex boyfriend's body were, in no particular order: voodoo magic, Egyptian curses (also Mayan curses), angels, Irish fairies, aliens, witches and wizards… Also, salamanders and pirates. 

Ian groaned, exhausted. He massaged his tired eyes with his fingers, realizing that Google would have not been able to help that time around about his big question.

Where is Mickey?

That was what Ian really wanted to know. After the realization that yes, he was in Mickey's body, had downed in, the next question had been the location of Mickey's soul.

There was one thing that almost all those web theories had in common. If a soul enters another person's body, the other person's soul enters in the body the first soul left.

Meaning, Mickey had to be in Ian's body. Soul switching.

Unless the right theory was actually aliens and Mickey's conscience had been implanted in some weird lab monster created on an UFO. That would've been a problem.

Ian seriously wished that what he was experiencing was a case of Freaky Friday instead.

He needed to get back to the hospital, stat, but his family was probably still there. It would've been difficult to justify his presence there.

Unless…

Unless he had his brother Lip on his side.

Apart from Mandy, only Lip knew about his relationship with Mickey. He was the person he trusted the most in the entire world, so Ian decided he should take a chance on him.

He took out his phone and dialed Lip's number.

"Hello?” his brother responded on the other line.

"Lip? It's, uh, it's Mickey," Ian said. 

He heard Lip muttered something, but he didn't understand the words. They didn't sound nice.

"Listen, Mickey, I've got no time for you. I need to go to the hospital-"

"Are you home? Are you alone?” Ian interrupted.

"I am… why the fuck do you care?” Lip asked, his voice surprised.

"Just- just stay there, okay? I'm coming." Ian moved around the bedroom to find a pair of shoes.

Lip scoffed. "No man, I need to go."

"Stay," Ian blurted. He didn't want to piss Lip off, so he decided to ask nicely. He wondered if Mickey had ever done that once in his life. "Please, it's important."

There was a pause, then Lip said, "Alright, be here in five."

He disconnected the call.

Ian put on Mickey's boots and soon he was out of the house.

*O*O*

"Are you for real?” Lip asked, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Ian had decided to just cut to the chase and tell his brother the truth. 

So of course Lip didn't believe him.

"I know it's hard to understand, but-"

"No, no. I understand. It's just not fucking possible!” Lip shoved him against his chest. "What is wrong with you, Mickey! Ian is laying on a fucking hospital bed and you're saying this bullshit!”

"It's not bullshit! I told you I don't know how it's possible but it happened and you have to believe me," Ian got closer again. He needed his brother, his best friend, to understand!

"Oh shut up, Mickey!”

"I'm Ian!”

At those words, Lip raised his fist and swinged it against Ian's right cheek. On instinct, Ian responded by jabbing him in the stomach. Before he could throw an uppercut, Lip threw himself against him, falling down on top of Ian.

They continued to punch one another, rolling on the ground in front of the Gallagher's house, until they were out of breath.

They were both looking at the sky above, trying to regain their strength back. 

"When I was fifteen you discovered my gay porn stache and you got Karen Jackson to give me a blow job," Ian said. He felt Lip's stare at him.

"You got a juvenile record in order to protect me, because I wanted to be an Officer. When we discovered I was Clayton's son, I told you that I belonged to our family, just like you." Ian turned his head to face Lip and winced in pain. That blow against his rib hurted like a motherfucker. "Once I confessed to you that I felt as if I was trapped in your shadow."

Lip was looking at him with wide open eyes. Ian could discern his disbelief in then, yes, but also… was Lip seeing  _ him _ ? Was Lip thinking that maybe…?

"It's impossible," his brother said, his voice not as sure as before. "I- how can it be?”

"I don't know," Ian whispered. "But you're the intelligent one. You should have a few ideas."

Lip chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm studying to become a mechanical engineer. I'm good with things that I can see. This… this is fucked up."

"Thanks," Ian rolled his eyes.

Lip moved and sat down. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Hey, I'm not saying I don't wanna help. But I need something to work on, you know. You ODd-"

"I tried to kill myself," Ian interrupted, diverting his eyes back to the sky. He didn't want to say that, but if his brother needed all the details, he might as well supply the right ones, even if they were hurtful.

But Lip surprised him.

"I know."

"What?”

His brother shrugged. "I mean. I suspected as much. You weren't doing good recently and considering the bipolar-" He stopped, glancing sideways at Ian. That word was still a taboo. Ian had said over and over again that he was not his mother and his family had kept their mouth shut, giving him only meaningful glares. Ian got tired of lying.

"You can say that. Now that I'm in Mickey's body I can feel the difference with…" with a normal brain and a sick one. But he wasn't going to say it. He cleared his throat. "Anyway. I ODd."

Lip decided to drop the subject too and went back to the main topic. "Yes. And then you woke up in Mickey's body. You don't know much else. So right now the only one who could know more is Mickey himself. Only problem: where is he?”

*O*O*

Lip agreed with Ian about the validity of the Freaky Friday option. Mickey could be in Ian's body. He promised he would investigate further on the matter, but first they needed to go to the hospital.

His brother had informed him that only Fiona was there and he could distract her to give Ian enough time to test his theory. They had discussed whether to tell their sister, but in the end they had opted for not revealing her anything, at least for the time being. 

Lip went in first and soon Fiona came out of the room with him. As planned, they were going to the cafeteria to grab something to eat, giving Ian plenty of time to be alone with his body.

He breathed in and out a couple times and opened the door. 

The situation hadn't changed. His body was still lying there. No machine was attached to him, he was breathing on his own, but nothing else gave the impression he was alive. 

"Mickey?” Ian whispered.

Lip and he hadn't really thought it through. He got to the hospital room, now what?

"Mickey, can you hear me?” Ian sat on the stool previously occupied by his sister and leaned over his body. His heart was beating fast with anticipation. He had to try something.

He took Ian's hand, his own hand… whatever. It was warm but it wasn't moving. 

"Mickey, I don't know how but you might be inside my body?” Ian caressed the hand. "I-I'm not sure what to do. I woke up like this, but you… I mean if my body doesn't wake up…"

What about Mickey?

Ian leaned closer so he was hovering so Mickey's face was above his. There was one thing he could do. It felt stupid, but he didn't have that many ideas at the moment. "Now you will think I'm very full of myself, as usual, but I gotta try this."

He had watched enough movies and read enough literature to know that when the supernatural is involved, a really good way to wake someone up was to kiss them. 

He tried not to think too much that he was indeed kissing himself and lowered his face so now it was a mere inch away from the other's.

"Just… please?”

He whispered before closing the distance between their lips.

He was kissing himself as Mickey. How weird was it? 

Mickey and he had begun kissing only a few weeks prior to the break-up. When they had first started hooking up, the brunet had straight up told him he would've cut his tongue out of his mouth if he had tried to kiss him. Ian had died to taste those lips for so long but in the end good old jealousy had solved his problem. Mickey had once followed him to the White Swallow where Ian had become a frequent customer (and later on a dancer) and he had gotten so jealous of all the attention the redhead had been receiving, of all the touches. And the kissings. Mickey had beaten up a man who had just kissed Ian with his tongue and had dragged his boyfriend back to the Southside. As soon as he had parked the car, he had kissed Ian, hard and without tongue. Ian had loved it.

There was no response to the kiss. Nothing that could prove that Mickey was there, inside his body.

"Mick, you gotta try. If you're there, you gotta come through. For me, okay? Please…"

He felt dumb and narcissistic in a fucked up way, but he knew he was getting desperate. He went in for another kiss, trying to muster all the need he had for a reaction, anything, really.

But his body was still lying there, eyes closed and lips sealed.

If Mickey was really in there, he was trapped in a comatose body. Almost two days had passed, what were the chances of waking up now?

"If you can hear me… I'm so, so sorry. I-"

Ian brought his hand to his mouth. He couldn't start crying there. Mickey couldn't hear him cry, he didn't deserve that. Any of that.

He stood up and ran outside the room. On the way out he caught a glimpse of Fiona and Lip, but he didn't stop for them.

"What is Mickey Milkovich doing here?" He heard his sister say. 

Lip caught up with him outside the hospital. 

"Ian! Hey!” 

He made Ian turn around. 

"He's not waking up, Lip. I-I don't know what to do," Ian said, he was visibly shaking. His brother looked at him with worry.

"He'll wake up, don't you worry." He was trying to smile, but Lip had never been an optimist. He wasn't good at providing Ian with hope. "And anyway. We're not even sure Mickey actually is in your body. Just let me do some research, okay? I'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

Lip squeezed his arm, in a way that was supposed to be comforting, but it didn't have that effect.

"Just drive me back, Lip," he said, looking away from his brother.

*O*O*

Mickey was gone. And it was all his fault. Even his soul was a self-absorbed little shit and in order not to die, it must've pushed Mickey's own soul out of his fucking body. 

That was Ian's theory and he was pretty sure it was true. Now Mickey was trapped and Ian would've had to live in the body of the man he had practically murdered for the rest of his life as pentenance. He was actually the lucky one of the two.

His feet brought him to the old building they would use for fucking, but also to just stay together and talk. It was cold in there, but there were cushions and blankets and it was always better than the dugouts in an open field.

Ian just wanted to be in a place that remembered him of his time with Mickey. Of their fucks and their laughter and frankly yes, of their hopes and dreams.

Mickey hated when Ian would ask him about the future, but he'd just stare and listen when Ian would talk about his military career plans. He'd throw some snarky remarks here and there and then ask Ian to fuck him. Ian would always comply.

Dreaming about becoming an officer hadn't been his only dream.

He had wanted something more for Mickey and him. He had wanted them to be together and out. To be happy. Once he had had an incredibly vivid dream of them being married and owning a nice house. They had a kid and they were so in love with each other it was sickening.

But Mickey had refused to change and they had broken up. And now he was trapped in Ian's body and-

Fuck. 

Ian started to cry and he didn't see a reason why he should stop. He enveloped himself tighter in one of the blankets that still faintly smelled of Mickey.

Why had it had to end that way. A way where everyone cried for Ian and only Ian would cry for Mickey.

He loved him so fucking much…

Not that he had ever told him. Mickey would've killed him for sure. But he had been in love with him since forever and now he was cursed to be in his body until the day he died.

"Mickey…" he whispered, looking at a glass shard on the ground. Mickey's face was staring him back. "I love you."

He touched his lips and soon his eyes were watering again with tears. 

He let himself cry some more.

Eventually, the crying subsided. His breath was still shaking and he let out a choked sound. 

Ian just wanted Mickey. He wanted to feel him so much. He was looking at his reflection on the glass shard and God, how handsome was he.  _ His _ Mickey. Ian had found him beautiful as soon as he had seen him naked the first time. Scared and aggressive and so fucking sexy.

He felt his dick twitching in his pants and he didn't resist. He took it in his hand and started stroking himself. Mickey. He knew how Mickey liked to be touched and soon it was hard and aching for relief.

"Mickey. Mick…" Ian repeated Mickey's name over and over again. It brought him to the climax, which left him spent and momentarily sated.

Until a voice echoed in his head.

_ "Holy fuck, Gallagher. That was good!" _

Ian gasped.

"Mickey?” he whispered, looking around. He felt as if his heart was trying to break out of his ribcage.

_ "Jesus Christ! Can you hear me Ian?” _

"Yes! Where are you?" Ian stepped up and zipped back up his pants. "I can't see you."

_ "I think… I think I'm in your head. I mean. My head. I don't know. I just woke up now and I was in the darkness and then I felt so fucking good and there you are jerking one off." _

Ian grimaced. "Yeah, about that-"

_ "Yeah. I liked that. And anyway, I'm here? Whatever here means." _

"I'm glad you are," Ian said. "I can't believe I'm talking to you right now. After my body wouldn't wake up at the hospital I thought-"

_ "You're at the hospital?” _

Ian could feel the worry in the voice. He wouldn't have that. Not while he was so happy Mickey was somewhat alive. "Not important. Do you know what happened?" He asked instead. 

Mickey took a second or two before replying.

_ " Nah man. No clue." _

Ian nodded. He had hoped Mickey would've known something, but he was going to take what he could get. He was over the moon. He was talking to Mickey.

"Do you think aliens are involved?”

_ "What? Fuck no!"  _ Ian chuckled at his reaction.  _ "I mean, you should tell me. They are your people, after all." _

"Fuck off! For the last time, gingers are not aliens!”

_ "Sure look like one." _

Ian wanted to punch himself just to test if Mickey could feel pain too.

"Hey, Mick." He called him.

_ "Yes?” _

"I-I missed you.

_"... I missed you too, Firecrotch._ "


	4. Being Mickey Milkovich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian understands what being Mickey Milkovich means.

It soon became clear that two souls inhabiting one body was no easy coexistence.

They had two distinct and very hard headed personalities, but only Ian had the full control of Mickey's body. Which Mickey thought was utter bullshit as he had been saying to Ian many times already. 

_"You know, you don't really have to floss after every single fucking meal,"_ Ian heard Mickey saying. He decided to ignore his words and kept on flossing. _"I swear, if you're gonna hurt my gum with that fucking thing Imma-"_

"What? Uh? What are you gonna do, big guy?" Ian snapped. "I'm actually doing you and your health a favor here. Floss is good, you know, like changing your underwear more than every blue moon."

_"Hey, you never complained about my underwear before !"_

"You mean that in the past two years you've never got that all my comments about the beauty of showering were directed at you? C'mon!”

_"Fuck you!"_

"No fuck you!”

Ian was so close to banging his head against the wall, but he got interrupted by Mandy, who shouted from the other side of the door. "Who are you talking to, fuckhead!”

_"Shut up skank!”_

"No one Mands, mind your own business!”

 _"Hey, don't talk to my sister that way!”_ Mickey accused him. Ian scoffed.

"You're the one talking. Do you know how difficult it is to shit talk like you?"

_"It takes a lot of skills."_

"No it takes being a dumb fuck!” Then a realization hit Ian and he stared at the mirror. "Hi! I'm Mickey Milkovich and I'm a really dumb fuck! I hate personal hygiene and I got a big fat fucking head."

_"Hey you can't do that! ”_

"Stop me if you can!”

_"Fuck you Gallagher!”_

"No fuck-"

"Mickey!” screamed his sister again.

Ian sighed and lowered his voice.

"We gotta try to adjust, Mick."

 _"We gotta try to adjust, Mick, uhuh,"_ Mickey mimicked him. Ian rolled his eyes.

*O*O*

No. Sharing a body wasn't a blast. 

They both felt like they were in prison and only Ian had the opportunity to take a breath outside. 

Ian felt guilty about being the only one who could move Mickey, but that didn't mean he would apologize every fucking time the other complained about it.

So what if Ian wanted his body to shower every day? Or that he was forcing himself to read? He already had to cope with his new body insatiable craving for sweets and the fact that it pooped every night at 8 like clockwork. The wonders of human biology.

Mickey's phone buzzed and a message from Lip appeared. 

[12:41] Lip: everyone finally left if you want come to the house

Ian nodded and typed away.

[12:41]: coming

_"Like hell we are. I don't want to go,"_ Mickey complained. It didn't sit well with him that his brother knew, like he had discovered when Ian had called Lip to tell him the news that he was sharing the body with his original owner. _"I just want to punch him whenever I see him. You'll know what I'm talking about when my fists will hitch to hit that smut nerdy face."_

"Well, though luck. We're going."

Mickey didn't reply. And he shut up until he was actually standing in front of Lip and yes, his hands curled up into fists. He scoffed. It was getting ridiculous.

_"See?”_

"Shut up, Mick."

His brother looked at him as if he was studying him. He probably was, actually.

"So. Mickey's in there," he said, moving his hand to touch his face. On instinct, Ian swatted it away.

"Yeah. Sorry," Ian muttered.

Lip shook his head. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's… it's fascinating, really."

 _"Your brother is fucked in the head,"_ Mickey commented.

"He's just a nerd," Ian kind of defended him.

"You do know I can hear you, right?" Lip made him notice, without taking offence. "Best if you steal a couple airpods, at least people won't think you're mad. Well, maybe."

His brother got them two beers and they sat down on the couch.

"So." He took a sip of his bottle. "I still have no fucking clue on how to solve this situation."

_"Is this the part where you tell me he's a fucking genius and there's nothing that can escape him?”_

Ian ignored Mickey, but his shoulders slumped a little.

"Nothing?”

"Give me a little time. Body sharing is more 'obscure' than soul switching. The only solid literature I could find is the good old Catholic Church demon possession and, while I'd love to have Mickey exorcised, I don't think that's the way to go."

Ian nodded. "Mickey really wants me to tell you, and I quote: fuck you man, seriously fuck you. End quote."

Lip chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway. I tried to include in the research the fact that you tried to kill yourself to see if something would come up, but then again, a sin for the Catholic Church, so kind of a moot point there."

_"Is it true?”_

Ian didn't reply, trying to keep his attention on Lip.

 _"Did you ODd on purpose?”_ Mickey asked. _"Ian!”_

"So what if I did!” Ian snapped, scaring the shit out of his brother. "It has nothing to do with you."

_"Nothing? I thought it was an accident, but you wanted to die! To think that I-"_

"Mick, I'm bipolar, alright?” Ian just shook his head at Lip's interrogative look. "I'm bipolar. I got the same brain of my crazy mother and I didn't want to admit it, but it's true. You've noticed how much I changed in the past few months. You told me so. Here's fucking why."

It hurted to blurt out those words. That he had changed because of a mental disorder, that he was different because of it.

_"Ian…"_

"I can see it clearly now, because I'm in your body. I don't have one thousand thoughts running through my mind. Actually I'm lucky if I have one," he tried to joke, but it pained him to tell the truth . "I don't feel too high but I also don't feel too low. I ODd because I couldn't take it anymore, but now I don't feel the need to. I'm good, really."

 _"Man, I didn't know,"_ he heard Mickey mutter.

"It's okay." And he meant it, at least for the time being.

*O*O*

If they thought having that small heart to heart meant peace, they were wrong. 

There was still only one body available and they were still new at it. Like a couple living together for the first time who had to figure out like and dislikes, habits and taboos. Except that they weren't sharing a one bedroom, but a brain, and they were too focused on the dislikes. 

For example, Mickey was totally against Ian being friends with Mandy. She was _his_ sister. It didn't matter that Ian was her best friend, Mickey had a reputation and Ian couldn't just fuck it up by braiding hairs with fucking Mandy. Especially with his father around.

But Ian decided to ignore him, as usual. 

There was always weed at the Milkoviches. Like weapons, one could find weed in every crevice of the house without even looking for it.

Ian had decided to smoke a joint with Mandy, much to Mickey's disapproval. His best friend had been a little surprised at first, but an hour later there they were collapsed on the couch in the living room, smoking and laughing. 

_"You had your fun, asswipe. Now just fucking leave before she starts asking you advice with her fuckboys."_

"Oh shut up, Mick!” Ian sighed.

Mandy arched an eyebrow at him.

Ian arched both eyebrows -Mickey's style- at her.

They started giggling.

 _"Two fuckheads. I can't even."_ Ian could just picture Mickey just raising his hands in exasperation.

But Ian wasn't going to let it go. He had the upper hand and he wanted to prove it by making it clear to Mickey that he could do whatever he wanted with his body.

"Mandy, let's dance," he said in the most serious tone he could muster due to the weed intoxication.

"What?”

_"Wait what?”_

Ian grinned. He fumbled with Mickey's phone and put on some kind of club music on Spotify. Like the one he would dance to in Boystown. Mickey's body wasn't used to moving to the rhythm, but he was sure he could swing it.

He held out his hand to Mandy, who took it, looking at him in disbelief.

_"Gallagher, don't you try!”_

"Watch me," Ian whispered. He danced with Mandy and there was nothing the other man could do to stop him. They were having fun and they were laughing. Mickey kept on yelling in his head to stop, but Ian figured it was good for that grump to relax once in a while and enjoy the music.

To prove his point even more, he let Mandy rest for a second on the couch, while he took off his shirt and started rolling his hips to the music.

 _"What the fuck are you doing!”_ he heard Mickey shout. He chuckled.

_"Ok ok.You had your fun, now stop."_

Mandy whistled, pleasantly surprised when his brother began to twerk. Ian had never really done that even at clubs, but he imagined with an ass like Mickey's, he could totally master the art of twerking.

_"Ian. I'm fucking serious. I don't like this."_

He felt worry in his voice, not only annoyance. He decided to ignore that and the cold feeling running through his spine in favor of making Mandy laugh by shaking his ass like there was no tomorrow.

Until the main door suddenly swung open and Terry appeared, his expression was a mixture of astonishment and disgust.

"What the fuck!” he growled, before launching himself at his son. Ian had no time to duck when Terry's fist collided with his nose.

"Dad!” he heard Mandy scream. "Dad please! We were only joking!”

"Go to your fucking room, skank!"

Apologizing to her brother with her eyes, Mandy followed his orders.

Terry raised his fist again, but this time Ian managed to shield himself with his forearm. The older man didn't appreciate the gesture judging by the death glare he sent him.

_"The fuck are you doing just- just let him hit you!"_

"But-"

"But what! You a fucking homo? Fucking- doing that shit!” Terry hit him again with a powerful hook against his left ear. Ian lost his balance and fell to the floor.

_"Trust me. It will be faster."_

Mickey sounded almost calm and resigned. Ian wanted to cry. For the pain, for the impotence of the situation. For Mickey's tone of voice. 

Terry started kicking him in the side and abdomen and Ian decided to let him, curling into fetal position **.**

As Mickey said, his father grew tired of kicking him pretty soon. The older man groaned and stretched his shoulders.

"No more queer stuff in this house," he threatened. "And go get me a beer."

He plopped onto the couch and turned the television on.

Ian slowly got up from the ground. He winced in pain at his ribs.

 _"Just give him his fucking beer and get the fuck out,"_ Mickey instructed him. Ian stalled.

_"Now, Ian!”_

Ian followed his advice and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He opened the cap and came back to the living room.

Terry snatched the bottle from his hands as soon as Ian handed it out to him. Ian couldn't help but startle at the gesture. The older man snickered and Ian felt fucking powerless.

"Move the fuck outta my way, boy."

Ian did just that.

He didn't realize he was trembling until he put his hand on the door handle of his bedroom. It was shaking.

 _"Breathe. Go inside,"_ Mickey said, his voice calm.

Ian breathed. He went inside.

_"Okay. Now let's go check my beautiful face, aight?”_

Ian nodded glad that Mickey was talking to him, instructing him on what to do. Judging from the warm wetness he was feeling under his nose he was pretty sure he was bleeding.

As predicted, Mickey's face was a mess. Blood was running from his nose, which was cut along its length and close to the left eye. His skin was red on his left cheek and ear. The day after all his left face would've become black and purple and in just a couple hours it would've been swollen as all fuck.

"Fucking bastard…" he muttered, checking his mouth for any sign of damage.

_"Just be glad the nose isn't broken. What about the ribs?”_

Lifting the shirt up wasn't an easy task. Even just that simple movement was incredibly painful. 

_"Okay. Maybe one rib is broken. Wouldn't be the first time,"_ Mickey said when Ian gingerly touched the bone with his fingers and they both jolted in pain.

"He's a monster," Ian muttered. 

_"He's my father."_

"He beats you like a dog!” he half screamed half whispered.

_"I'm used to it."_

"But I'm not!”

_"I know. I'm- I'm sorry, Ian."_

Mickey apologized. Mickey never apologized. He shouldn't excuse his father's behaviour, it wasn't his fault. All Ian wanted to do was to hug him tightly and tell him that everything would be okay, but it wasn't possible.

"I promise I'll treat your body better. And I'll be more careful. I'm sorry too, Mickey." For the broken rib, for Mickey's family situation, for himself who had never really understood what being raised as Mickey Milkovich meant.

 _"You do that. And I'll even let you wear new boxers every day. It's kind of nice,"_ Mickey joked.

They heard a knock on the door and then it opened. It was Mandy.

"Hey…" she said, presenting a small box in her hands. "Let's disinfect these wounds, shall we?”

Ian nodded, letting her in.

*O*O*

It was past midnight and Ian was asleep. Mickey instead was wide awake and thoughtful.

Ian was okay. For now. He had promised to be more careful and Mickey had decided to trust him on that. 

For a while now he had been thinking about telling Ian the truth. About Peggy and how this whole body sharing situation had started. He didn't know if knowing would've made a difference. Maybe Ian only needed to call for the old hag for her to celestially appear out of fucking nowhere. Maybe Ian would've only known the truth and still be stuck in his body because his grandma had decided it was the best solution for everyone.

And perhaps it was. His father wasn't ideal, but he had spent more of his life in the clink than outside, so there was a good chance of him landing in jail in the next couple months or so. What mattered was that Ian was stable.

He could live like that. He had actually discovered that when Ian was asleep, he could regain control over his body. Not that he planned on doing much about it, but it was nice to know that sometimes he could stretch his legs on his own. Ian didn't need to know. Ian should only be safe in his body, using a brain that wasn't maybe a first choice, but that didn't bring him to think suicide was the way to go. 

Mickey simply couldn't lose Ian a second time. If that situation was the best he could have, he'd take it without hesitation.

  
  



	5. Taking control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are getting better along in their shared body.   
> Terry brings them 'to work'.

_ "And you're sure that that shit is edible," _ Mickey commented, disgusted.

Ian chuckled and poured the spinach and kale protein shake he had just prepared in a tall glass. "It's not good, but it's edible. It's healthy."

_ "It's green." _

"Healthy things tend to be green, Mick. But it's for our body. And after we're gonna do a few squats. I can't believe you got an ass like you do and you've never done them before," Ian said, shaking his head in disbelief. Now that that ass was also his, he would catch himself shamelessly staring at it in the mirror.

_ "Mpf, good genes I guess." _

Ian nodded. "Okay, here it comes," he warned before chugging the shake down his throat.

_ "What the fuck, Gallagher! It's disgusting!”  _ he heard Mickey complain. He didn't stop and finished it in one go. It was disgusting but he had to drink it.

"Done. No more until tomorrow."

_ "No more until fucking never! I felt like I was getting waterboarded with sewer water.” _

Ian chuckled, moving to the sink to wash the glass. They were getting along better but, even if he felt a little guilty about being the only one with control over the body, he would always do something that Mickey didn't want to do. Just because he was a little shit.

The calm atmosphere was interrupted by Mickey's phone ringing. The caller ID showed 'Iggy'.

"Do I have to?" Ian asked, not really looking forward to talking to Mickey's stupid cousin.

_ "Shithead usually calls and calls until you don't respond." _

He groaned and answered 

"Yeah."

<Yo, Mick! You gotta come here immediately. Uncle Terry is fucking pissed.>

Ian felt a shiver ran through his spine. He tried to appear calm and Mickey- _ ish _

"The fuck for."

<It's mine and Colin's...and Jaime's fault, I guess? Debtors don't want to pay us up and now pops pissed because he thinks it's disrespect or some shit,> Colin said. He sounded agitated, he probably feared Terry's revenge on himself. <Listen Mickey, he said that he was going to reach 'em a lesson.>

"Okay and the fuck does it have to do with me?”

<Uncle Terry said to tell you to come too. He said you've become too soft in the last few days or some shit.>

Terry hadn't forgotten the twerking session. Ian had thought that after a broken rib and an almost broken nose it would've become water under the bridge. Yeah. Right.

"What should I do?” he whispered, keeping the phone at a distance.

_ "You gotta go or he's going to be even more pissed." _

That was true.

"Yeah, alright. Just text me where you are," Ian said, using a confident voice.

Iggy gave him the address. It was one of the never finished complex buildings, close to the one he and Mickey used to frequent.

"I'll be there."

He disconnected the call. Time to put Mickey's thug face on.

*O*O*

When he arrived at the building, Jaime spotted Jim right away.

"Fucking finally, man. He's furious, just talk sense into him, you're his golden boy," he asked.

_ "Fuck off." _

"Fuck off," Ian said. Mickey and he had decided he should simply repeat Mickey's words since the situation was foreign to him. Frank might be a bad father/uncle, but at least he had never brought his children on a debt settlement mission or whatever that was.

"I swear, everytime he gets out of the can he thinks he has to scare everyone into paying up. As if we can't do that…" Jaime muttered.

_ "That's because they precisely can't do that. They're fucking useless, always smoking weed and snorting coke,"  _ Mickey commented. Ian decided it was best not to say that. He only shrugged.

Jaime accompanied him inside one of the old buildings, where a horrifying scene appeared before him.

Four men were kneeling on the cement, their arms tied up behind their backs. All of them were scared out of their minds, three with their mouths taped shut, while the other's mouth was free and begging for mercy.

"Please Terry, please! You know I always pay up in time!” he screamed.

Colin was in front of the man, but they were both looking at Terry, who was standing just right next to his nephew with a gun, cocked and loaded in his hand.

"You didn't pay up on time last time, Dimitri," Terry reminded him.

The man was trembling, clearly trying to come up with an excuse in his mind. "I-I thought I had to wait for you, for when you'll be out-"

Terry pistol whipped Dimitri against his temple. "You know damn well that when I'm not around my family collects the money! Colin, just make him remember that."

Colin looked at Terry, confused. The older man rolled his eyes and gave him a slap behind his neck. "Fucking punch him, you useless asshole! Kick him, whatever! Teach him a lesson."

Mickey's cousin seemed to understand and punched Dimitri right in the face. Colin wasn't big or strong, so it took him a few jabs before the man fell on the ground, a tooth flying a couple feet over.

Even though Mickey had told him to hold his ground, Ian motioned to go. What the fuck was happening? Ian wasn't one to back off from a fight, he wasn't scared of blood or broken bones. But that… that wasn't something he wanted to be a witness to. It was mob style shit. 

His movement caught Terry's attention, who bowed to him in an exaggerated manner.

"Your highness! You finally decided to deign us with your presence!” 

_ "Just stay calm, Ian. Go closer." _

Ian wanted to reply, to tell him that they should just run, but he knew talking to himself wasn't the best choice in that situation. 

He got closer to Terry, but always maintained a safe distance. The older man snickered. 

"What? You're scared of me, boy?  _ Dance _ over here, will ya." 

_ "Don't show him your fear, Ian. Just do what you're told." _

Ian exhaled. He was now standing in front of Terry, who nodded in appreciation. 

"Alright. Now. There are four men here. One for each of you fuckheads. I trust you know what to do with the paki here."

Ian's head turned to see the man he knew as Patel, the neighborhood dry cleaner, shivering and sweating before him.

No.

There was no way in hell he was going to beat the man up. It went against all his principles. He was a good person, he didn't collect debts by kneecapping people!

"I'm not-"

_ "Don't!”  _ Mickey shouted in his head.  _ "Are you fucking crazy? Just punch him in the face once. Hard." _

Ian didn't want to do it. He didn't want to hit that poor man even once.

But he had to. He breathed in and he punched Patel. Hard. Just like Mickey had instructed. The man lost his balance and collapsed on his side.

Ian was ready to turn on his heels and go, but Terry's words stopped him.

"Why'd you stop? Lesson ain't finished yet."

Ian looked at Terry, who was staring at him with an accusatory glare. He was sure of it now. The main lesson wasn't for Patel, but it was meant for him.

Except, he couldn't continue. There was no way he could punch him again. Not when the man was begging him with his eyes to stop.

"Now, Mickey!" Terry shouted.

_ "Let me take over,"  _ Mickey said.  _ "Just- you can't do it." _

"What…?" Ian whispered.

_ "Please. Don't say anything. Listen, I can control my body when you're asleep. I didn't plan on telling you but I can't let you do this. I think if you give up control, I can take over," _ Mickey offered, taking Ian by surprise. But there was no time to make him explain. Ian had to decide fast.

"Mick-"

_ "Just let me take over,"  _ he begged.

Ian didn't want this. He didn't want this fucked up situation. 

He didn't want many things.

Yet he had to let Mickey take control over their shared body.

It was easier than he had thought. Mickey took over immediately, judging by the unexpected right hook to Patel's face. Ian cringed internally at the sound of a nose breaking under his fingers. 

Mickey didn't stop. He was straddling Patel's chest and continued pummeling the man's face, turning it into a bloody pulp. Ian didn't try to take over, he knew he would've probably cried on the spot. Or puked. Perhaps both. Mickey instead kept on going until his father told him it was enough and patted him on the head.

Ian decided to not watch Patel's face once Mickey's stood up. Not to hear his laments. He shut off his mind, until Mickey's voice came through, telling him it was safe now.

He was back at the Milkovich house, on the bed.

He looked down at Mickey's hands, bloody and bruised. It was painful to move the fingers.

_ "Yeah… there's ice on your left if you wanna use it,"  _ Mickey said.

Ian glanced at his right and grabbed the pack of ice, placing it on the back of one hand 

He gasped in pain.

_ "Sorry." _

Ian shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Mick." He felt tears forming in his eyes. He didn't even try to wipe them off. "It's- it's that fucking monster! He threats all of you like animals. You're scared of him, I know you are, Mickey, I can sense it."

_ "Ian…" _

"No! I know you love him, but you can't deny he's destroying you! He's crushing you down, taking apart every good thing you have until there's nothing left. Please, Mickey, you must see it."

Mickey didn't respond, but Ian wasn't going to let him stay silent. Not this time. Before, he could've run instead of facing Ian, but now he had nowhere to go.

"I can't let you stay here, wasting your life away trying to please him. That man is happy only when you're miserable and I won't let him make you feel that way. We need to go, Mick "

_ "Ian, it's okay. I'm used to this." _

"There's no  _ I _ anymore here," Ian said, his voice steady. "You say you're used to this, but I'm not. And  _ we _ share this body now. We need to go."

Ian hoped he got through to him. He fucking hoped Mickey would understand the necessity of getting the hell away from that man.

What he did not expect was for Mickey to give him a way out.

_ "What- what if we didn't have to share my body?” _

*O*O*

Mickey told him what had happened back at the White Swallow. He told him about finding him by chance, unconscious on the ground, how his dead grandma had appeared out of fucking nowhere (which would've been impossibile to believe if not for the fact that Ian had already experienced his fair shair of the supernatural) and that he didn't know why, but she had decided to relocate Ian's soul into his body.

When Ian asked him why telling him only now, Mickey downplayed it and told him 

_ "It's time for you to fuck off." _

"Mick."

_ "No. I'm serious. I thought- nothing. My body is not safe for you. Frankly, I don't know if we can just call your dead grandma for her to appear but you need to at least try and then beg her to let you out or some shit." _

"And then what? Leave you to your father?"

_ "Leave me to my life. You already did it once, shouldn't be too difficult." _

It hurted. Right there. A painful stab in his heart. He was aware he had abandoned Mickey once already. And he'll be damned if he'd leave him again.

"Not gonna happen, Milkovich. You're not gonna push me away," he said. And he meant it.

There was a pause. A moment of silence.

_ "So you're not gonna try to call your grandma?” _

Upon hearing Mickey's hopeful voice, Ian only wanted to hug him tightly. He shook his head. "Not for the time being."

He didn't even want to think about this newfound possibility. So he decided not to. At the moment, all he needed to do was to reassure Mickey of the importance he held in his heart.

He took off his shirt and pants. It was no easy task because of the pain at his ribcage, but he managed to. He then laid down on the bed and closed his eyes.

"I'm not gonna give you control. I'm gonna make you feel good and you'll better take it," Ian warned.

_ "What are you going to do?”  _

"Exactly what you think."

He licked the palm of his right hand and he felt Mickey's body tingle in anticipation. That guy was so fucking sensitive.

He trailed his fingers slowly along the planes of Mickey's chest, his abs, and he stopped right at the hem of his boxers.

He was aware that those were technically still Mickey's fingers, but he hoped that the other man could only concentrate on the feeling the hand could provide him. That by keeping his eyes closed, he could believe it was Ian's hand giving him pleasure. Ian was certainly going to do just that.

He reached inside his boxers, finally grabbing Mickey's half-hard cock. He gave it a few, slow strikes, before he pushed the clothing down, just enough so he could free what was now a full erection.

_ "Ian…" _

"You like that, huh?” 

Mickey didn't reply and Ian started moving his hand up and down the shaft. He knew what Mickey liked from the past, but he could also feel it too.

"Mickey, you're so sexy," he groaned.

_ "You do know you're giving yourself a compliment, right?” _

Ian stopped his hand movement. It was painful for him, but he knew for Mickey had to be even worse since he was not the one in control of that hand.

"Are you sure you want to be a sarcastic little shit? Are you?”

_ "...Please continue." _

Ian had to stifle a laugh.

"Alright," he said. "And Mick. You really are damn fucking sexy."

He resumed the movement of his hand, precome leaking from Mickey's cock. Fuck if it was good. Last time in the old building it had been fast and lame and he had thought he was alone, now though…. Now he was with Mickey and with his eyes closed he was focused on receiving and giving pleasure. 

_ "Ian… Ian…" _ Mickey moaned in his head. He was begging for something and Ian knew exactly for what because he was feeling the same need.

He grabbed a pillow and positioned it underneath his lower back and sucked on his left hand's fingers. Soon he was massaging Mickey's hole, which eagerly opened for his first finger.

"Fuck. Mick. I never thought you could feel it so much, it's fucking-" Ian grunted in pleasure as he pushed the second finger inside.

Ian had never really liked having something inside his ass. He could accept it, but he didn't really gain any pleasure from it. Being in Mickey's body, though, was giving him a completely different experience. He inserted a third finger, feeling on the verge of coming.

"Mick. You're beautiful, I wish I could see you right now," he said. All he could hear were Mickey's moans, echoing inside his head, and his own sounds. 

_ "Ian. Fuck." _

He went deeper inside. The angle wasn't ideal but he managed to reach Mickey's soft spot. It didn't take much longer before they were both coming. Together.

Ian had never experienced a more mind-blowing orgasm.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

"I love you, Mickey," he whispered. It didn't matter how he would react, Mickey needed to know that. "I don't care how it happened, I'm glad we're having a second chance, as weird as it is."

Ian remained silent, reading the silence that had fallen upon him. It took a few seconds for Mickey to respond.

_ "I know. I love you too" _

His jaw dropped open.

Never in his life had Ian wished to hug someone more than at that moment.


	6. Together free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey feels that Ian is resigned to this new life. He hates it.

Ian didn't mention Peggy again.

Mickey didn't insist.

Yet Ian wasn't happy and Mickey couldn't bear it.

They were getting accustomed to sharing a body, their fights getting less and less frequent. Mickey had the hunch it was because Ian had become more resigned. 

After their last discussion, after Mickey had told him about the dead old hag, Ian hadn't tried to push him again against his father. And not just that. When Terry would enter the room, Ian would relinquish control and give it to Mickey. He had simply explained to him that that way things would've been easier for everybody. Mickey hated it. He fucking hated feeling Ian that way, accepting the life just like Mickey had done from the moment he had been born. That wasn't Ian. His Ian, the one he was in love with, was beautiful and strong. Well, maybe strong wasn't the right word, Mickey had started to notice how self-doubting he was, how starved he was for reassurances. But he was also stubborn and determined and it pained Mickey to keep him locked in a cage, where he was suffering and withering. 

Being in Mickey Milkovich's body meant he had to hide and submit to Terry's dominance. It meant he would've never been free. That had always been understood and accepted by Mickey as being his destiny, but it couldn't be Ian's as well. 

They were sharing one body now and Mickey would be damned if he'd let Ian suffer because of it.

"So. Do you have a tux or something?” Ian asked.

_ "What the fuck for." _

Ian shook his head. "Mick, the wedding is in like an hour. We can't go there in one of your sleeveless shirts."

_ "It's not even real! Iggy has to marry that whore because she's knocked up. The only thing we're celebrating it's Svetlana's green card," _ Mickey commented. Ian couldn't exactly tell him he was wrong. Iggy had been forced by the Russian into marrying her. Everyone also doubted she was pregnant by him.

"Iggy seems happy, though," Ian shrugged. 

_ "Poor fucker thinks that now he won't have to pay for sex anymore. Good fucking luck with that."  _ Mickey was harsh, but Ian knew he actually loved his cousin.  _ "Anyway. I should have a couple button down shirts and jeans somewhere in the bottom drawer. Just get Mandy to iron them." _

"Jeans, Mickey?” he groaned.

_ "Fuck off. They're good jeans. I wore them at your club." _

Ian grinned, realizing which ones he was talking about. When Mickey had started to make an appearance in Boystown with Ian, he had bought a pair of well fitted jeans that enveloped his ass so nicely Ian had a hard time refraining his hands from touching it. "Oh.  _ Those  _ jeans."

He could practically feel Mickey's eye rolling.

_ "Yeah, yeah. Only decent pair I own." _

Ian decided to give him a break and opened the bottom drawer, finding the jeans and a nice shirt in serious need of an iron.

"I'm gonna go find Mandy," he said. He knew how to iron, but he guessed Mickey couldn't be seen doing domestic chores. He found Mandy when she was in the middle of ironing her own dress. Lucky.

"Hey Mands. This shirt too."

Mickey's sister smiled at him. In the last two weeks they had become closer. Not as much as when he had been Ian Gallagher, but they definitely talked more than she used to with her brother.

"Sure. Just wait a sec."

Ian nodded. "Ready for the wedding?”

Mandy shrugged. She finished fixing the last wrinkle on her dress and started with his shirt right away. "It's gonna be a mess. As usual. I hope he manages to violate his parole and gets sent back in the clink. As usual."

She had maintained a casual tone, but he knew she was deadly serious. 

"It wouldn't be half bad," Ian said.

Mickey thought the same thing.

*O*O*

The couple got married.

Now everyone was getting rightfully wasted.

The whole Milkovich family, friends and whores were hoarding the Alibi to celebrate… celebrate something. A few kinda forgot after the eight beer. 

Mickey wasn't talking. Well, Ian. He was just sitting on a bar stool, nursing his bottle and watching Terry having the time of his life, just fresh out of a fuck in the bathroom stall with one of the ugly bridesmaids. 

_ "Ian do you want to go?” _ Mickey asked.

"Nah. This my life now. Just better get used to it," Ian muttered. He took another sip.

_ "It's not your life." _

Ian scoffed. "Tell that to grammy."

_ "I would, but you don't wanna call the bitch." _

"I said I'm not gonna do that."

Mickey couldn't understand for the life of him why Ian wouldn't do that. Maybe it was hopeless but he could try. He had been tempted to do that himself when Ian was asleep, but he had desisted. If Ian wanted to stay in his body, Mickey would've let him as long as he'd like.

But how could Ian be fine with it?

He himself… Fuck, even Mickey hated his life. Before, he had been resigned because he hadn't known any better. But this life with Ian had changed him. It was hard to be in a cage once he had finally seen the outside and he didn't want Ian suffering in it with him.

_ "Ian, this is not the life for you," _ he said, trying to come across Ian's stubbornness.

"It's not the life for you too, you know." He nodded towards Mandy, dancing with a big guy who she could only hope wouldn't hit her in the future. "For Mands too."

Mickey didn't respond. What could he say? That Ian was wrong? He knew better.

"We won't be free together," Ian added, a subtle challenging tone in his voice 

Fuck. That.

Mickey didn't want to keep Ian in his own prison with him. He didn't deserve it. Hell, both of them didn't.

But what could he do…

And then, he knew. It took a quick glance of his surroundings to realize.

It was so simple. And fucking suicidal.

_ "Ian you know I love you." _

Ian had to mask his smile behind the bottle. "I know," he softly whispered.

_ "So give me control and don't try to take it back." _

Ian was bringing the beer to his mouth, but stilled in his movement.

"What? I can behave, Mick. I swear."

_ "Just- please?” _

Ian wasn't convinced, he could feel that. But he relinquished control anyway.

_ "Don't do anything stupid, Mickey." _

Mickey chuckled. It was more of a nervous reaction than a real laugh. "Of course."

He breathed out. Then he hit the bar counter a couple of times, hard. The Milkovich's way of calling people's attention for a toast. 

It was now or never. 

"Iggy, I love you man. Svetlana… I don't fucking now you and I don't really feel the need to. Anyway, happy marriage and lots of kids." Iggy laughed, Svetlana glared at him. Man, if she could kill you with just her eyes. Mickey flipped her off and opted to stare at his father instead. "Whatever. Dad. You're an asshole. Everybody thinks that they just can't say it to your face. You terrorize your own fucking family and you like it. But you know what? No more."

Terry was looking at him, confused. It was clear from his expression he wasn't sure on how to behave. He probably would've taught him a lesson later, but in the meantime his son telling him he was an asshole was still not enough to stop having fun. Yeah? Mickey would give him enough.

_ "Mick let me take over-" _

"No!” Mickey snapped. Now he really had every eye on him. "I also wanted to add. I'm fucking gay. Just needed you to know that."

_ "Oh Mick…" _

Mickey had to wait only for a few seconds. When the 'enough' hit his father just right.

"I'll fucking kill you!” Terry shouted, launching himself at him. Mickey was ready for the attack, but not for the full force of a madman. 

The older man punched him so strongly against his left cheek that he flew on the floor. Terry was on him the next instant. Mickey's survival instinct kicked in and blocked his jab. He head-butted Terry and he lost enough balance for Mickey to gain the upper hand. He swung his fist against his father. And he managed to hit him a couple of times, maybe three. Then Terry grabbed an empty bottle on the floor and smashed it on his son's head.

"Fuck!”

Blood was trickling down his forehead, impairing his vision. He tried to defend himself from Terry's attack, but he failed. The man was on him once again and started pummeling Mickey, his son too weak to fight off his punches.

Nobody could or would help him. At a certain point Iggy tried to intervene, but he was stopped by Mickey's uncle. Mandy too, her new guy was keeping her firmly by his side. 

Mickey heard her crying before one punch from Terry knocked him out for good.

  
  


*O*O*

Mickey slowly woke up to the sound of two women bickering. 

Which was weird, considering that all he could see in front of him was Mandy's face, crying, but he could not hear her. She was on top of him, telling him something. Maybe the words were "wake up" but he had never been a good lip reader. Behind her, Terry was still shouting, judging by the open mouth and furious eyes. One of his brothers was holding him still and away from Mickey.

Mickey tried to talk, but he couldn't even move his mouth. Actually, he couldn't lift a single finger. He was still on the Alibi's floor, motionless.

_ "Mick? Mick! Can you hear me?"  _ He heard Ian call for him. 

_ "Yes? Fuck's happening?”  _ Why could none of them control his body?

_ "I'm not sure but I think those two might have something to do with it." _

_ "Who?” _

_ "You can hear their voices, right? Just focus on them." _

Mickey didn't understand at first, but he tried to do as he was told. He focused on the two voices and soon two women appeared, right in front of Terry. How the hell had he not seen them earlier?

One was Peggy and the other was-

_ "Fuck."  _

_ "Mickey? Do you know who she is?" _

He did. It had been ten years, but she looked the exact same as he had last seen her. Straight black hair, blue eyes, a beautiful and kind face.

For all those years he had thought she had run away. He had never blamed her, only had wished she would've taken him and Mandy with her.

_ "Yes. She's my mother,"  _ he whispered.

_ "What!” _

_ "Yeah. I thought she was enjoying a new life in Florida, but if she's with your grandma…" _

He didn't want to say it. Ian understood and didn't insist.

His mother looked incredibly angry at Peggy, who was acting tough but she was clearly in the wrong and she demonstrated it by looking at the floor. They didn't seem to notice that Ian and Mickey were listening in.

"I didn't fucking know it was going to end up this way, obviously!” Grandma Gallagher shouted with her raspy voice.

The other woman shook her head. "You should've never meddled in the first place.  _ My _ Mickey was not to touch. I didn't train you to ruin  _ my _ fucking family!”

Mickey's mother, the ever Milkovich lioness. Her son never realized how much he had missed her until that moment. 

"Well it's done! Sorry, I guess?"

Peggy shrugged, obtaining a death glare from Mickey's mother.

"Sorry doesn't even cover, Margaret. I thought you loved your grandson and now you have put my son's life at risk too. With his body in this condition…" She glanced at Terry and spat right in his face. "You fucking bastard. I'm so looking forward to the day you'll be dead!”

"Nina!" Peggy addressed her. "I know I screwed up. Your son's body can't handle two souls now. I  _ am _ sorry, I'll take Ian's out."

Mickey didn't even have to think about it before intervening.

_ "Wait you can't do that!" _

The two women turned their heads towards Mickey's unconscious body. Nina's lips turned into a huge smile.

"Mickey! My baby!" She screamed in delight. "I thought your soul would be asleep with the body."

She moved closer, kneeling in front of him, right next to her daughter, and she caressed his face. "My beautiful boy… I'm so sorry I wasn't here to see you grow. To help you."

Mickey was glad his body couldn't move or he would've started crying. 

_ "Mom… I thought you left us. What happened?” _

She smiled softly at him. "One day I will tell you. I just need you to know that if I had had a chance, I would've never left you and your sister."

Mickey wanted to pry, to push her for an answer, but Peggy's words made him drop the subject.

_ "Mom. Take my soul, leave Ian's." _

Nina looked at him in horror. "But you would die-"

_ "No! Take my soul! I was supposed to be dead anyway!"  _ Ian interrupted.  _ "Sorry Mrs Milkovich, but I can't let you do that. Mick can't die. Take me instead." _

Ian was resolved. Mickey had put his life at risk for his happiness, he wasn't going to let the man he loved die.

"Oh, fuck off little shit!” his grandma yelled. "And you too Milkovich boy. Both of you want to give up your life? Life's fucking precious and I'm sick and tired of you two wasting it. This was the reason why I put your soul in Mickey's body and gave both of you a this - let's call it punishment. But here we are at step fucking one, with Mickey begging for having his life taken away, just like last time."

_ "Mickey, is this true?” _

Mickey had really hoped the old hag wouldn't have revealed the truth about that night.

"What? He never told you? Fuckhead was all happy about giving up his life for yours."

_ "I'm sorry, Ian. I didn't think it was necessary for you to know that." _

_ "Knowing what. That you are my knight in shining armor?”  _ Ian was trying to not turn into a gooey mess of happiness, but it was difficult.  _ "Yeah, I would've loved to know that." _

_ "Ian-" _

A loud smack. 

Ian and Mickey focused their attention back on Nina, who had just slapped Peggy. Hard.

"How could you not see it! They are not giving up on life. They are sacrificing their life for one another. I would've done the same for my children, but you would never understand it, Peggy. You're manipulative and you only think for yourself." She sighed. "Yet someone must have thought there was some good in your heart because you're an angel now. So behave like one and unfuck the situation you've put these boys in."

Peggy glared at her for a second, before shaking her head. "Fine! Let's give them another chance, but you're such a sap, Nina."

"I'm a good mother and an even better angel. You should learn from me. Now. What can we do?” she asked as a teacher would ask a class of eight years old students to repeat the multiplication tables.

_ "Ian can take my body." _

_ "Let Mickey live!" _

Mickey and Ian exclaimed at the same time. Peggy rolled her eyes.

"Shut up you two! There's no need for one of you to die."

That information effectively shut both of them up.

_ "What do you mean?”  _ Ian asked _. " I thought-"  _

"You thought wrong. Mickey's body can't handle two souls anymore, so we just need to take yours and put it somewhere else. A baby is born every second and I know there are two women in Chicago ready to give birth right now. A boy and a girl. Also I confirm that both their almost newborn children will grow up healthy, body and mind."

Peggy stopped talking, but the smirk on her face and the scowl on Nina's was telling them that she wasn't telling the whole story. She was waiting for their reactions. Which arrived right as expected.

_ "A baby? I can't be born again, it's basically the same thing as dying!"  _ Ian refused.

_ "A healthy baby. You told me that a good thing about being in my body was that you weren't bipolar anymore. You'd be healthy, maybe a rich kid from the Northside,"  _ Mickey said. He was trying to convince Ian to take that opportunity, but he was hurting inside. Ian born somewhere else… he would've never seen him again. Or at least for a couple decades.

_ "I never cared about money, Mick." _

Nina coughed once. Considering she was an angel, it was doubtful she had caught a cold.

"Peggy…" Nina incited the other woman to continue talking. Peggy chuckled.

"Alright, alright! Option number two: you move back to your old bipolar ass. Once your soul is in, it will activate again."

It took Ian a moment or two before asking. "So it will be just like when I ODd?”

There was fear in his voice. Mickey wanted to hug him as tight as possible.

"Well yeah. I mean, you'll wake up feeling fairly balanced. But it won't last forever, sooner or later you'll have your mood changes. Can't do much about it, kid." Peggy actually seemed really sorry about it. Maybe she was. "So, I don't want to rush you, but I kind of have to, Mickey's body won't be able to sustain two souls for very long. What's it gonna be? Take it or leave it?”

_ "Ian?" _

_ "Yes?" _

_ "I'll wait for you, if that's what you want. I love you, I want what's best for you. If you think it's a new body, so be it. Maybe we'll meet again and maybe we'll become friends, even if it will be awkward because I'll be fairly older than you'll be. But fuck the other people, right?”  _ Mickey was talking to reassure Ian, but also to convince himself. If it had been up to him, he would've had Ian exactly how he was and accepted all of him. He would've taken care of him. Thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit. He would've taken it all. But he knew Ian hated his disorder and he had already tried to kill himself. Mickey was not going to be selfish.  _ "You're gonna be just fine." _

_ "But I wouldn't be me." _

_ "You will be eventually. Your soul is the same." _

_ "But I won't be born in my family, in my neighborhood. I won't have the same friends and I won't have you. I won't have bipolar but Ian will be gone." _

_ "Ian… isn't that what you want?" _

Mickey regretted that question as soon as he finished the sentence. He didn't want Ian to agree, he couldn't bear the truth.

_ "No." _

What? Mickey stayed silent.

_ "It's not what I fucking want. I thought it was, but it's not. I don't want to be bipolar, that's true, but I'm not gonna run from me. If I'm born as a baby, it'd mean to die."  _ Ian's voice was becoming steadier at each word he was adding.  _ "I'm not going to call quits on Ian Gallagher. I tried to kill myself once, but I don't want to now. I'll get better, I'll… seek help. I'm not giving up." _

There was no mistake. Peggy was looking at her grandson differently than before. Her eyes were beaming with pride.

"Good." she said. "So, are you ready to go?”

_ "Wait!”  _ Ian stopped her.  _ "What about Mickey?" _

"That bastard beated him up pretty good," Nina intervened. "But someone called 911. Police and an ambulance are on their way. He'll live, don't you worry. And Terry is going to prison again, that's for sure."

Mickey was glad.

_ "Mh." _ Ian didn't sound convinced yet. _ "Mickey, when I'll wake up-" _

_ "I'll be with you."  _ Mickey replied without hesitation.  _ "If you'll want me, that is." _

_ "Yes. I'd like that very much." _

How they both wished to be able to kiss each other.

"Alright lovebirds, can we get the show on the road now?” Peggy asked, feigning annoyance.

_ "Yes!”  _ both of them replied at the same time.

Nina smiled. She kissed Mickey's cheek as a last goodbye. "Good. Now just relax. It will be okay…"

They did as they were told and soon the world around them started fading out.

Last thing Mickey remembered was the sound of an ambulance approaching.

*O*O*

It took him a while to regain consciousness. Or maybe it had been only a few seconds since he had heard the ambulance at the Alibi. Who the fuck knows.

The only thing he was sure about, was that he was still alive. 

But what about Ian?

Was he still in his head? Did he make it to his own body?

"Ian?” he called with a groggy voice. Seriously, for how long had he been knocked out?

"Mickey!” 

Ian replied immediately. He felt something warm taking his hand. Long fingers entangling with his own.

He opened his eyes- well just one, the other was probably too swollen to open - and was greeted with the vision of the face he loved the most. Finally.

Ian was crying but also smiling happily. He lowered himself down and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Mickey…" he said again. Mickey had forgotten how much he loved hearing his name coming from that mouth. Ian was still wearing the hospital white gown and had a few days stubble on his cheeks. He had never been more beautiful. "You look horrible, really."

Ian joked. Mickey tried to laugh but the pain in his chest was too much and he soon started coughing.

"Hey, hey! Try not to move too much, Terry really did a number on you."

Mickey scoffed. "No shit."

"You've been asleep for twenty-four hours straight, you really needed the rest," Ian explained. "I woke up almost immediately after they put my soul back in my body, I almost scared to death Fiona. After that Mandy and I have been here with you. She's actually just getting coffee, she'll be here in a minute, so I'm glad you decided to wake up now that we are alone."

Ian smiled softly at him. He brought Mickey's hand to his mouth, kissing each of his knuckles. They were still bruised so the kisses stinged a little. But who cared.

"So, Milkovich, are you ready for our new life together?” The redhead seemed confident enough, but Mickey could see the doubt in his eyes. As if he could ever tell Ian no.

Mickey smiled too.

"Of course, Gallagher."

They had just the time to kiss once more, before Mandy entered the room.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be a really short epilogue :)


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A really short but needed epilogue

Four limbs, two eyes, a mouth. Then another set of four limbs, two eyes and a mouth. Two bodies, two different and separate entities completely in love with each other. They were laying on the bed, their legs entangled, Ian's chest pressed against Mickey's back, Ian's arm keeping Mickey as close as possible.

Slowly, they woke up. The brunet turned his head when Ian started peppering his neck and shoulder with light kisses. 

A pair of blue eyes met green ones.

"Hey…" Mickey whispered.

"Good morning, Mick."

The redhead moved them so he was now on top of him. He lowered himself down to kiss his boyfriend on the lips, which parted open immediately to allow his tongue to enter.

Mickey's hands travelled from Ian's messy red hair to his shoulders, down to his lower back. He could never get enough of touching the other man, even after years of living together.

He squeezed Ian's butt cheeks.

The redhead chuckled.

"Can't get enough of me, huh?” he said, cocky as usual.

Mickey shrugged. "Nope," he replied in all honesty. He had stopped being a coward a long time ago and now he was even too blunt with his needs, sometimes catching Ian off guard and making him blush. "Want you."

Ian smiled and kissed him again, deep and messy. Their bodies were rubbing against each other's creating that wonderful and excruciating friction between their erections. Ian's hand searched for the lube in the nightstand drawer and soon he was fingering Mickey's hole, his partner moaning against his ear. There was no sound he loved more.

"Ready?”

Mickey nodded, eager. The redhead positioned himself better on top of him and entered his body, not stopping his thrusts until he bottomed out. They both groaned in pleasure.

Ian knew what Mickey liked. He had years of practice and had experienced Mickey's soft spots himself, when his soul had been a guest in the other body's. Soon Mickey was a moaning mess underneath him. Ian relished in being able to make the brunet feel so good.

They reached their orgasms, kissing and worshipping the other's skin, making it tingle and shiver with lips, tongues and fingertips.

"Love you," Ian kissed Mickey another time.

"Love you too, Gallagher."

Ian grinned and rolled onto his side. He searched for the cigarette pack and lit one up. He inhaled it once and passed it to Mickey. 

They basked in the afterglow for a few minutes, at the end of which, Mickey got up, all naked and glorious.

"Pancakes?” he asked, patting Ian's knee.

Ian nodded, making a show of stretching out his muscled arms. "My man knows how to take care of me."

Mickey scoffed but didn't deny it. Ian let him go only after he had slapped him on the butt.

He walked towards the kitchen, passing by the living room, where he stopped. Right above the fireplace, there were two framed photos: one of his mother, the other one of Ian's grandmother. Frankly, he was still not entirely convinced that Peggy deserved to be on the shelf, but Ian has convinced him by telling him that having the bitch on their good side was their best option. He caressed his mother's picture: it was of Nina smiling and kissing Mandy's pudgy cheek, Mickey on her lap sleeping blissfully. The year after that picture, Nina had disappeared. Terry had told everyone she had run off, and nobody had ever thought of questioning it. Until Mickey had seen his mother as an angel and had started asking questions and his investigation led to one of his uncle confessing her murder by Terry's hands. Mickey had never cried more like the time the judge had given Terry life in prison. Ian had been there to comfort him the whole time.

"I'm happy, mom. Don't worry about me," Mickey whispered.

He could swear he felt a kiss on his cheek.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the end. What do you think? 
> 
> I'm planning on writing more gallavich, but I still don't know which of my ideas to write. I have an Androids au multichapter in mind (still to define), a royals au multi and a short yoga au  
> Or knowing myself I could write something completely different lol

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated in order to keep writing this story :)
> 
> my tumblr [JAinsel & the Ships](https://jainsel-and-the-ships.tumblr.com)


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